


me you we two

by supernover



Category: Blur (Band)
Genre: Embarrassment, Love Confessions, M/M, Sloppy Makeouts, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:14:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22195345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernover/pseuds/supernover
Summary: Graham has a question for Damon
Relationships: Damon Albarn/Graham Coxon
Comments: 8
Kudos: 66





	me you we two

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gay and Graham is ticklish let's see what happens

The TV buzzed with its usual nonsense. Graham couldn’t give a shit if he tried. He picked at his cuticles, chewing on the inside of his cheek, trying to muster up the courage to ask Damon something that had been on his mind since grade school, following him to college. He smoothed out the covers beneath him. Same as they always were. He’d thought Damon would get some new ones. This duvet has some serious mileage, dating back to his first sleepover, here. Damon let Graham sleep in his bed. He wondered if Damon remembers that. As time went on, silence grew to a deafening volume, and Damon’s room felt as though it were shrinking. He cleared his throat.

“Damon,” Graham said, an inquisitive hum in his otherwise hushed voice.

“Graham,” the other replied, a lazy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He stretched his arms above his head and arched his back, shirt hiking up, exposing just a sliver of tummy—enough for Graham’s eyes to gravitate towards the trail of dark brunette hairs, there. He swallowed whatever feeling it was that followed, still bitter as ever.

“D’you—erm, well…” The second his mouth opened and allowed the first words to come tumbling out, he began to reconsider. “Nevermind." He’d hoped Damon would allow them to carry on with their semi-casual silence prior.

“What?” He didn’t.

Graham shook his head, fighting the urge to chew his nails in favor of wringing his unusually clammy hands. “Nothing."

“It’s not ‘nothing’,” he grumbled, mocking Graham’s suddenly gloomy tone. Damon shifted on the bed, turning to face Graham with newfound intrigue. “I can tell,” he murmured softly, tugging at his bottom lip with his teeth. Graham’s eyes shot up to the ceiling, hastily averting his friend’s piercing gaze. The older boy poked a harsh, pointy finger into his ribs, causing his body to jerk defensively in response. He had a tendency to take advantage of Graham’s ticklishness in situations such as these.

“Damon!” He tried his best to make it come off as a warning, but laughter quickly followed as Damon persisted.

“Tell me.”

“Please!” Graham chirped, squirming harder with each relentless jab, one after another. “Okay, okay!” he yelped, breathlessly—defeated. Damon obeyed the truce, removing his hands from Graham’s sides. The younger boy frowned, as if upset by the loss of physical contact. When he turned to face other, he shrunk under Damon’s expectant, almost demanding, gaze. Damon only quirked his brow, his stern demeanor melting into genuine concern as he noticed Graham’s breaths were growing shaky. Graham winced as he swallowed the lump in his throat. It shouldn’t be this big of a deal, he thought. It never was before, at least. Graham inquired, his voice the faintest whisper, “D’you… fancy boys?”

Damon’s expression shifted, now practically unreadable. It only served to worry Graham further. “Why?” he asked, calmly.

The younger boy shook his head. He really wasn’t sure as to how this urge to ask Damon about his sexuality manifested, or suddenly mattered. He never thought to acknowledge its origins. He didn’t want to. Especially now, as Damon flashed him a mischievously grim grin. “I—“

“Are you interested?” he asked, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip hungrily.

Graham couldn’t discern whether or not he was joking. “What?”

“Graham, why does this matter?”

“It doesn’t,” he hissed. It does.

“Then why did you ask?” Damon asked, caution lingering in his sharp tone.

“I don’t know,” he spat, raising his voice slightly.

“I think you do.” He does.

Graham’s hands began to shake. “Damon—"

“D’you fancy boys, Graham?”

God, he feels sick. “I don’t know,” he murmured.

“That’s not a no."

“I think I should go home.” As he only leaned slightly away from Damon, he felt his friend’s hand gripping his wrist tightly, almost desperate in nature.

“Don’t.”

“Damon.” He tried his best to appear steadfast, but his voice wavered. He’s never been so unsure of himself, and it didn’t help that Damon could always see right through him so easily.

His grip on Graham’s wrist loosened, letting his hand fall to the bed with a soft thud. It’s never that easy with him. “Kiss me, first.”

Warmth flooded his cheeks and his eyes went wide, visibly flustered. “What?” It tumbled out of his mouth again, clumsily. His heartbeat was pounding in his ears.

Damon rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll do it.” Before another ‘what’ could escape Graham’s quivering lips, Damon’s mouth crashed against his. It was ungraceful, rushed—all teeth, sloppy tongues, and muffled words that died in Graham’s throat as Damon ripped the breath from his lungs. He instinctively wrapped his arms around the older boy’s shoulders, pulling him closer. He’s wanted this. He’s needed this, for so long. Damon retaliated, encircling Graham’s hips, pulling him into his lap with persistent hands clawing at his back. Further throwing caution to the wind, Graham ground his hips into the boy below him, moaning against his mouth when he brushed against Damon’s erection. Damon needed to hear it again, pushing his hips up to meet Graham’s, rewarded with another moan dripping from Graham’s mouth, lips all tinted red and slick with spit from messy kisses. He pried himself from Damon, lightheaded and panting but still pushing against him, feeling his cock grow beneath his jeans.

“You like that?” Damon growled.

“Yes,” Graham whispered, partially ashamed of his very audible desperation. He buried his face in the crook of Damon’s neck, his eyes squeezed shut, now thankfully unable to look at him.

“Want more?” the older boy cooed.

Graham nodded, allowing himself to catch his breath. “Yes.”

“Then tell me why you asked if I fancy boys.”

“No.”

“Say it.”

“I can’t.”

“You love me. Is that it?” Damon teased, fingers sneaking beneath the waistband of Graham’s jeans, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of his ass, earning a low whine from the boy situated in his lap.

“Please,” he groaned, trying to wiggle free of Damon’s firm grasp. This was humiliating.

Damon knew it was, too. Guilt suddenly washed over him. This wasn’t how he’d imagined telling Graham how he felt. This wasn’t right at all. Nothing was ever right with them. “I love you too, Graham,” he said it with sincerity. A brief moment of truth Graham overlooked, convinced his acting skills were merely improving.

“God, shut up.” His discomfort was evident in the way his body shivered and his lip curled into a grimace. This was a mistake.

Damon wore a pained expression. “I’m serious.” It just wasn’t the time. He knew that, and yet he couldn’t stop the confession from spilling out of his mouth. "I’ve been having these thoughts—”

Graham growled, slamming his fist into Damon’s shoulder. “Fuck off!” he yelped, immediately going silent once he’d realized what he’d done.

Damon’s arms went limp with defeat, and Graham fell softly against the bed, free from his grasp. Graham stared back, unblinkingly, reaching up to delicately cover his mouth, mouth agape in partial shock. A sinister spark still danced in Damon's gaze, and he tensed up, prepared to receive a punch in return. The older boy inched closer. Graham screwed his eyes shut, ready to be greeted by Damon’s knuckles. Instead, his hands fell to Graham’s sides. Tickling. Graham sucked in a sharp gasp through his teeth, his body writhing beneath Damon’s fingertips, now lightly grazing the exposed skin of his pale belly. It was so torturous that he’d failed to notice Damon was now straddling his waist, looking down at Graham with genuine love in his eyes. Graham shrunk, bringing his fingers to his mouth to bite at the nails almost on reflex. Damon denied him that, gingerly wrapping his hands around his friend’s wrists and pinning them to the bed.

“I love you,” he repeated, eyeing the frail-looking boy beneath him adoringly.

Graham believed him, this time. He nodded, tongue poking out to wet his bottom lip slowly before taking it between his teeth, gnawing, thinking. “Can you kiss me again?” he whispered, breathlessly.

**Author's Note:**

> I just keep editing the tiniest things gosh how do you guys do this


End file.
